


How Horses Came To The Desert

by ciaan



Category: Tough Guide to Fantasyland - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Gen, Horses, Legends, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-13 19:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/140787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciaan/pseuds/ciaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Come closer, children," the shaman declaimed, "and I will tell you a sacred story from the beginning of the world."</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Horses Came To The Desert

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sexybee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexybee/gifts).



> Thanks to sansets for the beta and kinetikatrue for all the useful ideas.

The early morning sun was just starting to warm the desert when the youngsters gathered outside the horse field to meet the shaman for their daily lesson. The horses were in bloom, ready for pollination, and today these children would be able to watch that task being carefully performed by the expert breeders. But first the stage needed to be set.

"Come closer, children," the shaman declaimed, "and I will tell you a sacred story from the beginning of the world. In those days, those far off days, in those nights, those far off nights, we had no horses. The clans used camels, those lumbering, recalcitrant beasts, to carry themselves and all of their belongings from camp to camp." The children giggled and poked each other at the thought of such an unwieldy way of life.

The shaman continued, unhindered by the activities of his audience, for he knew that despite such things they were mostly attentive. "In the far north, very distant from the desert, there was a young woman of the steppes. Her name was Rohim. Her people did not appreciate her, for they made their women stay inside their stone fortresses, away from the open sky. But this young woman, she wanted to be free and she wanted to ride horses. For these people of the steppes, they had horses then. It was in those wind-swept places of rock and grass that horses first were grown by the Goddess."

"But why?" one of the little girls asked. "Why didn’t the Goddess create horses here for us?"

"Her ways are mysterious." The shaman shrugged theatrically. "I think that She wanted us to be able to appreciate them more and that is why She took Her time giving them to us. Now listen to how it happened. Rohim ran away from her people one day, taking with her not a horse, but many packets of horse seeds and the knowledge of how to pollinate their flowerings in the future. Her way across the steppes was long and hard but unhindered. No one searched for her, for these foolish people, they thought it was no loss for one mere girl to wander off when she seemed to have taken nothing."

All the children shook their heads at this foolishness, as they ought to do. But they were glad of it nonetheless for they knew it had given them both this story and the horses they could see in the field.

"After she left the steppes Rohim’s travels took her across land and sea. She passed through many strange places but did not find anywhere she wanted to settle and plant her horses. She was on a ship and was set upon by pirates and had to escape from them during a great hurricane. But that is a story for another time," the shaman chided, noticing the interested looks of many of his listeners.

"She washed up ashore on a land far, far from where she had started. That land was near here, on the edge of our desert that she eventually wandered into. When she reached the desert she was in dire straits, parched and tired and hungry, beaten from her travels. But the desert people, we took her in." The children all smiled at this, full of pride in their own people.

"And in return, she gave us horses." There were more smiles at this, and even some cheering, the children glancing with joy at the field full of horses.

"Although," the shaman continued, "the horses of the steppe people were unlike the horses that you are used to. The first crop of horse seeds was planted in the desert and while some of them did give rise to good fruit, most of them withered from lack of water. Even at the rivers and the oases there wasn't enough water to grow enough horses to outfit even one clan's needs."

The shaman looked around for a moment, his face serious, pausing to let the silence deepen before he spoke again. The children were all hushed now with anticipation.

"Rohim began to despair, but the Goddess had abandoned neither her nor the desert clans. So then a young man of the clans named Cazar’al came to Rohim with an idea. He suggested that the horses be crossed with the cactus plants that already thrived in the dry sands."

The children all cheered at this development, though they had of course known it already. Now the horses in the story could start to look like the ones that they were familiar with.

"It took many years of effort for the breeding to be successful and for the horses to be changed so that they could grow and flourish in the desert. During those years, as they worked together so closely, Rohim and Cazar’al fell in love and were joined and began to have children of their own as well."

Some of the older children sighed delightedly at that while others among the younger pouted in annoyance at them. The shaman smiled patiently at all of them.

"Eventually their efforts reached the goal and they managed to grow the kind of horses that we know and still ride today. Our much-beloved war horses of the desert, that can grow with almost no water, ride forever in the harshest of sand storms, and maim all our enemies with their sharp spikes. The horses that are the mainstay of our lives now, that allow us to travel as far and as fast as we need, to keep our camps on the move, and to drive away all invaders. We make our wealth selling them to barbarians around the world and our horses are prized far above the original horses grown by the people of the steppes."

All of the children were grinning and cheering again, full of love for their people’s horses, and bursting with pleasure and pride in their heritage and way of life. They were glad to belong to the noble desert clans rather than being barbarians themselves.

"That is how horses came to the desert and the clans achieved the true life the Goddess meant for them. And all this," the shaman concluded, "was brought about by Her by virtue of one brave young woman who ran away from the people who thought a girl could do nothing."

"Goddess be praised," he said, and all the children recited it with him. Then they trooped off to watch the horse blossoms be pollinated and the next generation of spiked cactus war horses begin.


End file.
